The Old Man
by The Reflecting Bird
Summary: An unconscious old man is found washed up on a river bank. His identity and the circumstances of his incident are unclear. Deliberately vague summary to avoid spoilers. Rated T for safety. One-shot.


**Author's Notes:** Hi there! I'm still alive! I'm working on a couple other pieces, but I kind of wanted to put this one out so my viewers (if I had any...) would know that I'm still alive and in the game. I've just been very, very busy, but I expect perhaps one more work out by the end of summer. Trying not to set my expectations too high...

In the meantime, though, here's a little something to think about!

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**The Old Man**

Van rubbed his hands together and exhaled a deep breath, examining the vapor that issued from his mouth. He went to the window overlooking the bay and felt the temperature of the glass. Not satisfied, he pulled the blinds shut.

He returned to his desk and continued to flip through prescriptions that the townspeople needed.

A few minutes later, Van squinted as he thought he heard footsteps rapidly moving through the light snow that covered the sidewalk. He instinctively readjusted his glasses, even though that would do nothing to help him hear. The sound of snow being crushed got louder and louder- there was no doubt that someone was coming now. The sound stopped just outside the clinic door. A second later, someone began to rap rapidly and noisily on it.

"Van! Van! Open up, quickly!"

Van had already stood up and was walking towards the door. When he opened it, he found a shivering Matthew struggling to hold a large object in his arms. Van's eyes widened when he realized that this object was in fact an old, frail, and dripping wet man.

"Alright, bring him in," Van muttered, trying to hide his surprise. Matthew entered and was about to set the old man down on a bed when Van stopped him.

"Here, give him to me. He needs to get out of these clothes."

Van took him into a nearby closet. The door mostly closed itself behind him, but Matthew could hear things being moved inside and soft, almost pained coughing. When Van pushed the door open again with his back, the old man was now dressed in a white robe with white socks. The wet clothes lay in a puddle on the floor, which Matthew picked up.

"Matthew, can you pull the covers back on this bed for me? I'll also need a couple of the blankets from the other beds." After Van had fit the old man snuggly under the covers, he ran up the stairs to his kitchenette and poured a glass of warm tea that was still simmering on the stove.

When he returned, Matthew had already set the wet clothes down and laid the extra blankets on the old man's bed. The old man appeared to be somewhat conscious, so Van helped him sit up. The old man did so slowly and silently. When he had accomplished this, Van encouraged him to drink some of the tea. The old man obliged, but he immediately coughed up the first sip. Van patted him on the shoulder and told him to lie back down. Van waved Matthew to follow him into the front reception room.

"Where did you find this man?" Van asked him in a low voice.

"At the river, just downstream from the waterfall. No one scheduled to have the boat taken out today, so I thought I'd see if there were any breaks in the ice where I could throw some lines in. I found this man hunched over the bank."

"What could he have been doing there?"

"I have no idea."

"Do you recognize him?"

"No… I don't. Do you?"

Van leaned over to the door and looked at the old man. His hair wasn't balding but did appear to be thinning and had grayed nearly throughout. His face was fairly wrinkled, but it lacked most other signs of age. He was even thinner than Van had initially realized.

There was something familiar about him, but all Van could answer was, "No."

"Well, what else can I do to help?"

"… I don't think there's anything more for you to do. You can go home if you like. Thank you for bringing him here."

Matthew grimaced and rubbed his badly shaven chin. "Well, ok. Mom will be probably be up and making breakfast soon. But I'll be back later to check in on him, if that's alright."

Van looked back to the old man and frowned. "I won't stop you." Matt nodded and went out the way he came in. The old man coughed as a blast of cool area rushed through the clinic.

Van returned to the old man's side and felt his forehead. It was still bitterly cold.

"Jin… can you… bring her?" the old man asked suddenly.

My name is Van. Jin is my father. What is your name, sir?"

"… Where is Jin?"

"He only works part-time now. He's currently traveling."

"You look just like him."

There was a strong resemblance between Van and his father, though Van was rather confused that this man would know his father.

"How did you come to be in the river, sir?"

"That's what we always did… when there was ice. We would… would go out there and have fun."

"Sir, that ice was far too thin to sustain your weight," Van replied gravely. Obviously, he hadn't seen it himself, but it was simply not cold enough for it to be that thick. No one sane would try walking out on it, he thought.

"That's what we always did…"

Van shook his head slightly. The man was obviously not coherent.

"Alright, I think it's time you get some more rest. If you feel up to it, I recommend that you drink some more of that tea."

Van felt the old man's forehead once again, which was still not improving, before walking back to his desk. He went to the phone, preparing to call his mother. Perhaps she would recognize the old man if he knew her husband, Van thought. He wouldn't have the opportunity to do so before the door flew open again.

It was Matthew- this time accompanied by his mother, Renee.

"Matthew, why are you back so so-"

"Let me see him," Renee ordered. She didn't stop to receive an answer before walking directly into the patient's room. Renee sighed when she saw the old man. He had aged a lot, but he still wore his hair the same way and the pile of clothes on floor weren't so different from what she had remembered.

"No, no, you old fool… what were you doing…" she muttered to herself. She took a seat on the bed to his right. Only then did he realize that someone was there. The old man's eyes brightened when he saw her, in spite of the fact that his body temperature continued to drop.

"… Renee? Yes, yes it is you… though you've changed."

Renee lifted his hand to her cheek, flinching in surprise at how cold it was.

"It's been thirty years, Kevin."

She had changed. Unlike the old man, though, her hair still held much of its color. That said, one could spot graying at the roots if he looked carefully. Her face, while not young, lacked most of the lines of the old man.

The old man looked into the distance. "It has been, hasn't it? How… how is Toby?"

Renee frowned. "Toby passed away nearly two years ago. Have you not been getting any news from home?"

The old man had to cough before responding. "Do you remember, Renee? We used to go out on the ice. We'd slide across, spin in circles hand in hand, look for any movement under the surface… do you remember?"

Renee was aware that he hadn't answered the question, but she let it pass.

"Of course I remember, Kev." She had to pause a moment before continuing. "Of course I remember. They were great times… but we can't bring them back."

"… No. No we can't."

Renee grasped his hand between her own. Her eyes began to water slightly.

"But we can have good times again! Maybe not like before, but... in our own way!"

A tear struggled to make the plunge from one of the old man's eyes.

"No… it's… it's too late for that now. I'm just glad… so glad I got to see you… one last time. The same you…"

"Don't talk like that," Renee interrupted with a touch of reproach. "Please, I haven't heard from you since you left. You never gave an address. How did the job work out? Do you have a family?"

The old man leaned back and peered at the ceiling. He didn't answer.

"At least tell me it's... been a good life," she continued as a first tear slid down her check.

Again, the old man failed to respond. Renee pursed her lips, as if looking for the right question.

"… Why did you come back, Kevin?"

The old man blinked several times before finally speaking.

"I come back… almost every night. But you looked the same, like before. I… I don't know what happened. This time the ice broke."

With little warning, the old man began to cry uncontrollably, his thin body shaking dangerously. Renee helped him sit up and then allowed him to lay his head on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Renee… so sorry. I… I focused on what I couldn't have and forgot what I did. I… I just couldn't bear for anyone to see who… who I had become."

Renee wrapped an arm around him. She looked for words to say but couldn't find them. Finally the old man pushed her away gently so he could lie back down. He looked to her.

"You… and Toby. Do you have any children?"

"I have a son. His name is Matt. He's the man who pulled you from the river, Kev. He told me you were here."

The old man looked confused. "Where is he now?"

Renee's expression was that of discomfort. "He's in the other room. I… I wasn't sure if… well, you would want to see him."

"… I do. Can you bring him in?"

"Of course."

Renee stood up, straightened her dress, walked back to the reception, and leaned inside. Matthew and Van were both huddled just to the side of the door frame, obviously having been listening.

"Who is he?" Matthew asked in a low voice.

"… An old friend." Then, louder, she called out. "Matt, can you come here!"

She was obviously trying to hide the fact that they had been listening. Matthew looked to Van as if to ask for support. Van raised his eyebrows and shook his head as if to say, "You're on your own." Matthew grunted but walked through the doorway without further prodding. Renee followed directly behind. Van looked around the corner as well. His mouth widened when he saw the old man's condition again. His mind prepared to take a step forward, but for some reason he found himself unable to go inside. Instead, he backed up and leaned against his desk in exhaustion. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He looked down to his lenses and peered through them. Funny how things turned so blurry when you take away one thing, Van thought.

Meanwhile, Matthew had taken a seat next to Renee on the same bed as before. The old man lifted up his hand. Matthew looked at it suspiciously until his mother motioned for him to extend his own hand. Once he had, the old man squeezed it as he stared into Matthew's eyes. This lasted for a good while before the old man spoke.

"You are not her… but you are her son." The old man's eyes brightened once again, as if he had come to some realization. He turned on his side and laid his other hand on top of Matthew's.

"… Follow your mother." The old man then shook his hand and nodded as if there was some form of acknowledgment between the two before letting go. He then turned again so he could direct his gaze upwards. The man then smiled and closed his weary eyes.

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**Author's Notes****:** Yep, you've got to love (read: hate) a good old fashion Reflecting Bird vague ending. I think the big idea can be pieced together without too much difficulty, with the possible exception of the obvious big question (if I were to get any reviews, we'll see how long it takes for someone to ask it...)

Anyways, it's not the most uplifting story, but maybe it means something to you. Please, feel welcome to leave a review or ask me any questions!


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